Overboard
by xphile.1
Summary: A little exchange between Picard and Crusher below deck after she is pushed overboard by Data. Standard disclaimer applies - I don't own ST: TNG or the characters.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Just a random little fluffy scene that always wants to pop into my mind when I see Star Trek Generations. Takes place before Picard finds out about his brother and nephew. Also, this does not include the deleted scene where Picard mentions something about them all being on board. _

Captain Jean Luc Picard heard Doctor Beverly Crusher shriek as Data pushed her overboard, knocking Worf back into the frigid water. He was powerless to do anything aside from stand there, hands clasped behind his back. Had anyone been studying Picard, they would have noticed the slight start he gave and saw the struggle in his features as he fought himself to remain a respectful distance away.

"Data!" Geordi LaForge exclaimed to his friend as he peeked over the side of the ship.

Data began to reply. "That was-"

"Not funny!" Geordi stared at the blank faced android for a moment, and then glanced back over to see Beverly nearly floundering in the water as she paddled toward the ship.

Worf had finished hauling himself back onto the deck of the ship, growling. Onlookers parted quickly so as not to be in his way as he stormed off.

Once Beverly hoisted herself over the side of the ship with Geordi's help, she sent a fierce glare in Data's direction. Wiping the remaining beads of water from her eyes, her gaze automatically met with Picard's. He was pretty sure he saw fire flash in her eyes and tried not to bite the inside of his lip as he held her gaze. Beverly brought herself up to full height and strode past them toward the steps that would lead her below deck.

Curse words sailed freely from her lips as she rummaged throughout the cabin for a towel. She rifled through a few cabinets and drawers, finding little more than papers and other antique items, meanwhile leaving evidence of her search with small puddles of water. Water droplets had rolled to the tips of her red hair that escaped from being pulled back behind her head, threatening to fall as she trembled from the slight chill in the air.

"Um, I believe you are looking for one of these?" Beverly would have recognized the quiet deep rumbling voice anywhere. Whirling around in the now all-too-small cabin, she gave the intruder a smile which was more of a grimace. Picard held out a small towel to her, cheeks tinged pink as he regarded her sheepishly. He had wanted to throw himself over the side of the ship to gather her in his arms, but seeing as everyone had been standing about, it would have made it painfully obvious how he felt for the Doctor.

"Yes, thank you…Captain." The fire that emanated from her had quelled at Picard's presence as Beverly gently retrieved the towel. She wiped her face before starting on her hair, trying to squeeze as much water as she could from it. The red locks were already starting to curl from the moisture, framing her face wildly.

Picard had taken up post leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her with hidden amusement lest he spark her temper again. "Do you need another towel?"

"Yes, I need to get out of these clothes before I catch a chill…holodeck or not, I'm freezing." Beverly did not take notice of the Captain staring in her direction as she bent over to tug off her boots. She dumped the water from each on the floor, mumbling under her breath.

It took every captainly ounce of Picard not to snicker and he moved to grasp another larger towel for her. By the time he had turned back to her, Beverly had stripped down to her Starfleet-issue undergarments. Swallowing had somehow become a forgotten action to him as he gazed at her fair skin that she was attempting to dry with the small hand towel.

"Towel…?" she asked. Thinking it odd that he hadn't moved for a moment, Beverly glanced up to see him staring in what looked like shock. It was her turn to blush. Smiling shyly, she took a step toward him. "…sorry, I didn't think you would mind." Her fingertips rested on the towel that Picard clutched in front of his body.

Clearing his throat, Picard brought his eyes back up to her visage. He was reluctant to let the towel go. "Beverly…"

She smiled at his obvious apprehension and tugged the towel with both hands, which caught Picard off balance since he had been holding onto it so tightly. He bumped into her, hands coming to rest on the still moist skin of her hips. Their eyes remained locked in an intense gaze, neither wanting to move or speak.

"Bridge to Captain Picard." the communicator chirped.

"Picard here." His gaze remained on Beverly, fingertips drifting upward on her hips toward her waist.

"There is a personal message for you from Earth."

The Captain saw a flash of what he thought was disappointment in Beverly's eyes as she finally broke eye contact to look down between them. She stepped back from him and began to dry the rest of her body off. Picard never thought he would be envious of a towel but couldn't help but think as such while he watched her dab the soft material on her chest.

He groaned inwardly and let out a quick sigh. "Put it through down here," Picard responded. He attempted to still Beverly from drying herself off, hands coming to rest on her upper arms. Remembering the last few words they had spoken regarding a potential future together did not make him feel any more confident with what he wanted to say to her, so he didn't. Picard simply leaned forward and caught her lips with his own in a forceful kiss. His hands moved to gently cup her face by her jawline and he pulled away slightly only to press another firm kiss on her lips. "You're beautiful when you're wet and angry," he confessed in a rushed breath of air.

Pulling away from her for a final time he started back toward the steps that would lead him above deck. He had to see her reaction, though. He had to know. Picard angled his body to face toward her so he could look at her one more time.

Beverly stood completely still, hands still seizing the towel in front of her body, effectively providing some sort of modest cover. Her lips were parted in surprise as if she were trying to remember where she was, and her blue eyes were wide as she stared at the Captain. Slowly, the smile appeared on her lips and the hint of a pink color rose on her cheeks.

That was all he needed to know. Picard grinned and nodded as he took the stairs above deck to retrieve his message from Earth.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I suppose I underestimated the power of reviews and will make sure I submit some more often when I read all of your wonderful stories. I decided to forge on ahead with another chapter since I agree with most of you that Picard would have most definitely went to Crusher after finding out about his family._

Once on deck, Captain Picard tried to force his demeanor to be one of professionalism, hoping the color in his cheeks had faded significantly. It would definitely take some time to put the image of the nearly naked Beverly Crusher along with the kiss they shared out of his mind. Even just the thought of trying _not _to think about it made a warmth surge to his face and he couldn't hide the slight smile that lifted his lips. He nodded briskly to crewmembers on his way toward the entrance of the holodeck, praying they had no clue where he had been or what he had or rather, hadn't, seen.

"Computer, arch." Picard strode toward the entryway and stood before the monitor that appeared. The smile had faded into a furrowed brow as his hazel eyes scanned over the letters. The letters began to blur as he finished reading the message. He felt the blood rush to his head pulsing behind his eardrums, and felt as though he could not breathe. Struggling to hold back any indication of pain, Picard closed the message, instinct compelling him to find seclusion as moisture built up in his eyes, dangerously on the edge of spilling forth. Emotions swirled around in a frenzy that he could not quite categorize yet. Anger, guilt, sadness, and helplessness stood at the forefront. Not wanting to abruptly exit the holodeck and cause concern among the crew, Picard lifted his hands to tug at the white uniform jacket as he made a straight determined path back below deck. Only the ship's counselor Deanna Troi had an inkling that something was amiss after feeling a brief onslaught of pain from her Captain. She watched him go below deck, making a mental note to prevent others from following since it was obvious he wanted to be alone.

Beverly had just finished wringing out her clothing and was tugging her tank top over her head. She peeked through the top of the shirt at the approach of footsteps on the stairs and saw it was Picard. Looking back to her clothing as she started to tuck the damp shirt into the waistband of her pants, she smiled coyly. "Sorry, you missed the show, Jean Luc." Not hearing a reply, her gaze lifted to see he had slumped against a countertop, his arm seeming to weigh too much as he pulled the stately historic hat from his head. It dropped from his fingers to rest on the floor.

"Jean Luc? Are you alright?" Concern clouded Beverly's face as she took a few steps toward him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. "What happened?" She leaned forward, trying to get a better look at his face in the dimness of the cabin.

His head hanging forward, Picard stared at the floor as he started to shake under her hands, sobbing silently. Using one hand to support his weight against the counter, the other came up to clutch at his face. "Robert….René…there was a fire…" The words were like rocks in his throat as he choked them out. He felt Beverly firmly gripping his shoulders to pull him forward against her, guiding his head by the back of his neck so that his forehead rested on the bare skin of her shoulder.

A mixture of concern and pain graced her features, knowing the pain of losing someone all too well. "Oh Jean Luc, I am so sorry," she whispered against the side of his head before pressing her lips to his cheek in a soft lingering kiss. She stroked the back of his neck with delicate fingertips, while her other arm remained strong against the expanse of his back, supporting him. They stood there for what seemed like hours, the methodic wooden creakiness of the ship the only background noise to complement the Captain's quiet sobs against her shoulder. Beverly shivered, feeling the warmth of his tears sliding beneath the thin material of her tank top. It only made her clutch him that much closer to her, nuzzling her cheek against the top of his smooth head.

Her eyes closed and she couldn't help but relive her loss of Jack from so many years ago. Accepting the pang of sorrow, she returned her full attention to Picard. She would reinforce her façade to mirror his careful mix of stoicism and compassion that he had provided her, except now there was another additive to their relationship that she couldn't quite name. It was the underlying feeling that was always present in their regular morning breakfasts, the shared looks when it seemed no one else noticed, and the occasional dinners. There _was_ something there, and even though neither of them would deny it, she was too afraid for them to act on it.

The Captain slowly pulled his face from Beverly's shoulder as his sounds of mourning subsided, releasing his grip on her to wipe his face roughly. It was evident that he was trying to regain some sense of composure, to regulate his breathing, but only to quell the overbearing sadness he felt. His gaze remained low, fixated on his discarded hat on the ship's cabin floor. "I was going to spend some of my upcoming leave there... René wanted to see holograms of the ship…" His voice was low and soft as it trailed off. Another heavy sigh escaped him and he shifted his weight so he was standing upright without the support of the nearby counter. Taking a few steps around Beverly, he made his way to the narrow bunk to sit down heavily before putting his head into the palms of his hands.

"Jean Luc, if you need to be alone…" Beverly's voice was quiet and understanding, but he interrupted her before she had a chance to finish.

"No…" It was a simple word. Forceful, almost. He pulled his face from his hands, his bleary gaze catching her features in the dim light. Her auburn locks had dried with a slight wave, framing her face in such a way that he swore she was glowing. He waited for her eyes to meet his and silently beckoned her to join him on the cot.

No words had to be exchanged for her to understand. Beverly crossed the remaining space between them and took her spot next to him, a slender arm coming to rest across the back of his shoulders. Her fingers gripped onto him tightly, pulling him close to her side. After a few minutes of melancholy companionable silence, she let out a soft sigh before speaking quietly. "I'm here for you…always, Jean Luc."

Picard did little more than nod his head curtly. He still felt numb. He wanted nothing more than to unread the words from the damned message or to have been there on leave a few months early so that maybe he could have prevented the tragedy. Several "should haves" ran through his mind, notably the ones centering on his decision to join Starfleet. Eventually, the logical side of his arguments won out, and he painfully resigned to the fact that no matter what course his life, Robert's life, René's life or Marie's life took…it would have come to the same final event. There were just some events one could not control, events that had some otherworldly meaning that they were not to understand in this life. He finally came to the dry conclusion that there was nothing he could have done, and there was nothing he could have changed to prevent what had happened. A heavy sigh expelled from his suddenly weary body, and he turned to the redheaded Doctor at his side. "Beverly."

Her friendly silence in Picard's time of sorrow was appreciated, and she let it be as such as she met his gaze at the mention of her name. She gave his shoulder a squeeze with her hand and a half-smile to show he had her full attention.

He reached to take her other hand into his own, threading their fingers together and gripped it firmly. His hazel eyes still raw with sadness focused on her eyes, not willing to let her look away from him. "I need you."

Damn him. More specifically, damn him for not elaborating on what he meant. Did he need her just for that particular night? Forever? Emotionally? Physically? Her blue eyes darkened as she searched his face for any indication as to what he meant and found…all of the above as her answer. In typical Beverly fashion to this type of emotional confrontation, any response was frozen as she tried to calculate what the correct reply should be. Her pulse seemed to stop, along with her breathing, and she wanted to look away from him but couldn't. Surely someone should be looking from them? Maybe the ill-timed communicator beep would interrupt this moment and buy her some time? Nope. Nothing.

Beverly swallowed with some effort, wondering why the air suddenly felt so thick. She noticed that Picard had no intention of looking away from her or releasing her hand from his grasp. This was it, he wasn't going to let her evade what had been between them. Knowing that this pivotal loss had been a major factor in this moment, Beverly felt torn on consoling him and telling him that this wasn't the right time, and throwing herself into his lap to comfort him. But there was still something that tugged at the corners of her psyche that said no matter what they had been through or what they would go through, this moment was bound to take place, and one day…there may not be another chance if she didn't resolve it correctly. Staring at him for those few moments as thoughts swirled in her mind, she finally let the half-smile appear on her lips again.

_Here goes nothing,_ she thought wryly, giving his warm hands a loving squeeze. "I know," she said in a quiet whisper.


End file.
